


Underground, Overground

by knitekat



Category: Primeval, The Wombles
Genre: Contraptions, Crossover, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitekat/pseuds/knitekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Lester and Nick Cutter meet the wombles - and Lester has to wonder if he'd hallucinating from his head injury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underground, Overground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [telperion_15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/gifts).



> This is where my muse went when I was giving the prompt: Nick/Lester – 'Underground, Overground'. 
> 
> Thanks goes to Fredbassett for the beta. She also gets the blame for encouraging this fic ;)

Damn Cutter and his inability to follow simple instructions. Why couldn't the mad professor just do as he was told for once in his life? Then Lester wouldn't have found himself out in the field, in the rain, in front of an anomaly and having to deal with a stubbornly obstructive park manager that Cutter had pissed off in his own irritating way. 

Lester sighed with relief when the park manager finally left, somewhat mollified by the promise of a government grant. Lester's gaze soon found his errant professor and he strolled towards him, to once again have a no doubt soon-to-be ignored conversation with him about proper procedure in the field when it came to civilians.

Before Lester could open his mouth, there was a sudden flash of light from the anomaly and he was falling into darkness.

***

Lester groaned as he woke, his head throbbing. He reached up to carefully feel the painful lump on his forehead and blinked as he realised he was lying in some type of large burrow, dug into the dirt by something fairly sizeable... that appeared to line its excavations with newspapers.

A low Scottish groan sounded beside him and Lester carefully turned his head to find Cutter sprawled on the ground beside him. “What the...?” Cutter's words faded and he looked shocked at something Lester couldn't see. 

The mystery of what had managed to stop Cutter in mid-complaint was soon solved when a furry creature with a pointed snout appeared beside Lester. He blinked at it several times and decided he must have hit his head harder than he'd thought. Although he wasn't quite sure why suffering from a concussion would make him hallucinate a strange creature, especially one wearing a mop cap and a French maid's apron... He shook his head and moaned as pain spiked through his skull. A furry paw reached out and gently rested on Lester's forehead. “Lie still, lad, until I've a look at you, non.” 

Lester just groaned and closed his eyes, bloody hell, now the creature was talking and with a definite French accent. He felt a soft tap to his face followed by a stern voice telling him to stay awake. He opened his eyes automatically at the command in that voice and stared into the eyes of another of the creatures. This one looked old; at least, Lester assumed he was as he had snow-white fur and walked with a cane, he was wearing a tartan shawl and, for some reason, two pairs of glasses rested on his nose. Bloody hell... he could understand hallucinating Cutter, he had been about to have words with the annoying man after all, but... why would his subconscious include these strange creatures? All he could hope was that it didn't involve pollen this time, he still had nightmares about that incident.

***

Lester leaned against a wall and carefully prodded the bandage he now sported on his brow, wincing when he touched a particularly sensitive spot. He considered the situation once more and came to the reluctant conclusion that it was unlikely to be the result of any concussion he might have. It was just too odd and thus, considering this was the anomaly project... damn. The anomaly, that was it. He remembered he had gone to have stern words with Cutter, then the anomaly had flared and... had it taken them somewhere else? Somewhere obviously far from home, since he certainly didn't recall any reports of talking, underground-dwelling, rubbish-collecting creatures living on Wimbledon Common in any government briefings.

Now he'd reached that conclusion, Lester glanced around the burrow as the industrious wombles – as he'd been firmly informed when he'd referred to them as creatures once too often – went about their business. If getting back home depended on these creat... wombles, Lester could, at least, take some little comfort in the fact they were organised and followed orders far better than his own people. He spared a glance at the nutty professor who seemed to be getting on with the wombles, bonding over a shared interest in the environment. 

Lester's musings were distracted when Cutter cried out, “Yes!” before resuming his quiet conversation with the wombles. He rolled his eyes at the fascination Cutter had with the wombles that they'd discovered – or rather, he supposed, which had found them. Cutter seemed especially interested in the one called 'Wellington', which Lester supposed he should have expected. Wellington reminded him of Temple and probably reminded Cutter of him as well. Whatever the reason, the professor certainly appeared to have developed something of a student-mentor relationship with the insecure creature.

“Lester?” 

Lester took a calming breath before joining the strange little group, he could tell the mad professor had yet another theory that he was going to hate. 

“We've been examining the evidence, Lester, and have arrived at a conclusion as to what happened to us,” Cutter began before smiling down at his small friends. 

Lester nodded. “I've already worked that out, Cutter. What I want to know is, can you get us home?”

“Yes.” Cutter nodded. He glanced down as one of the of the wombles cleared his throat, before adding, “Well, I think so. I, we that is, believe that this isn't our world.” 

“I had realised that, professor.” Lester looked pointedly at the wombles surrounding them. 

“Yes, of course,” Cutter muttered when his eyes followed Lester's gaze. “But I also think we might be in a different time-line.”

Oh God, not different time-lines again. Maybe he should order Cutter to have a MRI scan when they finally did get home. He sighed softly, but then again, if he mentioned these odd creatures they were with, they'd both be undergoing those scans and much more besides. 

“Lester? Are you listening?” Cutter's voice cut through Lester's thoughts and only when Nick seemed sure he had Lester's attention once more did he continue. “However, Wellington and Tobermory have an idea to get us home.”

Lester quirked an eyebrow at Cutter, did he really think these wombles would be able to get them home? Lester was tempted to treat them as an inconvenience until the anomaly reopened... except that, no matter what other people might think, he'd read the reports he demanded after each anomaly and something strange had happened to this particular damned anomaly to make it flare... “What about the flare I remember, before we ended up here.” Wherever here was, of course.

Cutter looked at the school cap-wearing womble who shrugged, before telling Lester, “We're not sure what caused it.”

“And thus you can't replicate it.” 

“Not exactly, but Wellington believes he can...” Cutter paused as if to consider his next words. “Allow for those changes in his calculations.”

“In other words, he can guess and hope it works.” Lester stated before glanced around as something occurred to him. “The last time you claimed the time-lines had changed it was, I believe, due to the future predator we sent back to the past changing it. Could this have been caused by something similar?”

“A change in the past?” Cutter asked before looking thoughtful. 

“Or someone experimenting with the anomalies?” Lester added, although he didn't vocalize the last part of the sentence – your ex-wife, again.

Cutter shot Lester a glance that he interpreted as the professor realising what he'd not said, before Cutter's shoulders slumped and he nodded. “It is possible that someone, and yes, it could be Helen, has done something to alter the anomaly.” Cutter sighed deeply. “She isn't the woman I loved, the one I married, Lester. She changed and...”

“And you've finally realised that.” Lester cut Cutter's words off before raising a hand when the man looked furiously at him. “This is neither the time nor place to have this discussion, Cutter.” He waited until Cutter nodded. “Good, now, what is your plan to get us home?” 

Before Cutter could reply, the two wombles looked at each other before the one wearing a bowler hat and tool vest spoke, Lester almost closing his eyes when he realised his accent was bloody Scottish too. “Wellington has been researching your anomalies and believes he now knows how to open one.”

Lester's eyebrow quirked as he turned his gaze to the other womble, who was nervously peering up at him through glasses. “You do?”

“Um” Wellington's expression became even more nervous-looking as he stared up at Lester, his paws fluttering and he almost looked as if he wanted to hide behind Tobermory. “Sorry... I... um... sorry.”

Cutter glared at Lester before crouching down to Wellington's level. “It is fine, Wellington. Just take your time and repeat what you told me earlier.” He glanced up at Lester before adding in a stage whisper, “I promise you, Lester's bark is worse than his bite.”

Tobermory patted Wellington on the back and stepped between him and Lester. “Wellington has discussed it with me and I believe that I can design and build a device to open one.” 

“And send us back home, Lester,” Cutter added. 

Lester's gaze flicked between the three... Cutter and the two wombles. When his eyes met those of Wellington, the womble let out a squeak rather reminiscent of Temple. All he could hope was that Wellington was as much of a genius as Temple was when it came to designing things no one else would ever think possible and that, like Temple, his improbable design actually worked. “Excellent. Get on with it.” When Wellington looked like he'd pass out, Lester sighed and added, “I have every confidence in all of you.”

***

“Lester?”

Lester sighed softly and looked up from the Times newspaper he'd discovered in the burrow. “Cutter?”

“I need a hand.” 

Lester closed his eyes, he had no wish to get involved in whatever disaster Cutter was about to cause. No, all he wanted was for Cutter and the wombles to finish the contraption so they could go home. 

“Come on, man, you do want to go home, don't you?”

Lester sighed before leaving the Times where he'd found it and slowly walked over to see what Cutter and his misfit team were up to. It was worse than he thought, the 'machine', if one could call it that, seemed to be made out of various odds and sods. Lester stared at it as he slowly realised that parts of it appeared to consist of a washing machine, the back wheel and chain of a cycle, a TV with the screen broken and half its insides gutted – although a toaster appeared to have been wired into it and various other items. Bloody hell, they were building it out of rubbish... although he recalled, some of Temple's earliest creations had consisted of dismantled hair dryers and who knew what else and they had worked... most of the time.

“Are you going to help or just stare in awe at it?”

Lester could hear the smile in Cutter's voice and he didn't need to see him to know Cutter was smirking at him. “I'm not sure I'd call it awe inspiring.” He almost yelped when a small form almost ran into him.

A young, wide-eyed womble stared up at Lester, his lip quivering. “Sorry.”

Lester smiled and crouched down until he was near eye-level with what was obviously a womble child. “No harm done, young...”

A Scottish voice answered Lester as the youngster was patted on the shoulder by a paw. “He's a wombling, Lester.” When Lester looked puzzled, Tobermory added, “Youngsters choose their names when they become adults. Now, young one, what are you doing out of the school room?”

The youngster raised his arm, a bundle of wires gripped in his paw. “Orinoco asked me to bring you this.”

An old, gravelly voice spoke from behind Lester. “Ah, that Orinoco, always after a nap.” Great Uncle Bulgaria hobbled into the room, leaning heavily on his cane. “Well done, young one, now back to Miss Adelaide.”

The youngster nodded, but paused on his way out to smile shyly at Lester who smiled back at him. He turned around in time to see Cutter nudge Wellington and almost rolled his eyes at Cutter's, “See, Wellington, I told you about his bark.”

Lester held his tongue, but only as he felt certain that the youngster would still be present. He had children of his own, after all. “I assume you wanted me for something, Cutter?”

Cutter looked blankly down at Lester from his perch halfway up the contraption for a moment, before nodding. “Yes. Of course. I need a hand, the wombles are brilliant, but they don't have the reach.”

Lester sighed and looked over the ramshackle contraption, it looked a health and safety nightmare. His voice, when he spoke, was full of disdain. “You want me to climb up there?”

“I thought you wanted to go home?” Cutter reminded him. 

Lester carefully considered the death-trap before cautiously climbing up it, pausing when he felt it shift beneath him. When the shifting settled, he continued upwards, he wasn't about to let Cutter get the better of him, the man would never let him forget. Holding on with one hand, he reached out for the wires Cutter held out. Not quite about to reach, Lester leaned over even further and felt a firm paw grip his arm as his foot slipped. 

“Careful, Lester,” Cutter called and carefully leaned out as far as he could to lessen the gap between them. 

“Stating the obvious, Cutter,” Lester muttered as he tightened his grip on the contraption and managed to grasp the wires from Cutter. Slowly straightening, alert for any shifts in the device he was precariously clinging to, and nodded thanks to Tobermory who had grabbed him. He passed the wires to the womble and watched him connect them to what looked like a coffee maker with a whisk sticking out of it. “Anything else you need me for, Cutter?”

“Well... since you're up here...” Cutter grinned at Lester. “We have some more wires to connect higher up.”

Lester looked up higher. The structure seemed even shakier than the one he was already hanging from. He took a deep breath then said, “After you, Cutter.” He watched Cutter climb higher for a moment before starting his own clambering up the side of the device. His foot slipped and he swallowed as he realised how much of a drop was beneath him. 

“Lester?”

“I'm fine.” Lester growled between his clenched teeth. “Now, can we please finish this?” It took several more rather tense minutes as they passed wires to each other and watched Tobermory connect them to even more outlandish contraptions and cannibalised electrical machinery. 

It was a relief when Tobermory announced the machine was completed and Lester could return to solid ground. He gladly took the glass of water handed to him by the same nameless youngster he'd met earlier, “Thank you.” He glanced over at Cutter, sitting on the floor and sipping his own water. “Well, Cutter, now what?”

“Now, Tobermory runs a few tests and Wellington checks his calculations and then we can go home.”

***

Lester found himself at a loose end as he waited for the final tests to be run. His thoughts turned to home, of how he was supposed to be spending the weekend at home, enjoying lay-ins with his wife before taking their children and the dog out to the park. But instead he was lost on the wrong side of an anomaly because Cutter couldn't... He shook his head, now he'd seen a possible time-line change he supposed he could understand why Cutter was so obsessed about not changing the past.

Lester looked down at a gentle tug on his sleeve and smiled at the young wombling who looked nervously up at him, the same one who had accidentally run into him earlier. “Yes, young... wombling?” 

The youngster seemed undecided for a moment, before he put his paws together and asked, his voice shy, “ Could you tell us a story?”

“Us?” 

A cleared throat had both Lester and the young womble looking at Great Uncle Bulgaria. “Now, young one, shouldn't you be in the school room?” The elderly womble asked kindly.

Lester smiled at the youngster, “He just wanted a story...”

“Ho hum, of course he did.” Great Uncle Bulgaria said, he looked at Lester carefully, “I think many of the wombles are curious about your world...”

“And I'd be happy to tell them.” Lester replied, after all, the wombles were helping him and Cutter with no expectation of payment.

***

Sitting surrounded by a sea of curious faces, Lester paused as he tried to think of what else he could tell them. He looked down as his sleeve was tugged once more and smiled at his young friend. “Yes?”

“Could you tell us how you came here?” the youngster asked, quickly adding, “Please.” 

Lester nodded when the other youngsters chorused his plea. “Where to begin?” He paused to collect his thoughts and consider what to tell the group of... well, children. “We were looking into... doorways in time.”

“Time?” one youngster asked as another queried, “Doorways?”

“Yes, you walk through these 'doors' and end up somewhere else. Some other time.”

“What, like half-past two?” 

“Not quite.” Lester smiled down at the child as he paused to think. “Do you know what a dinosaur is?” 

The womblings nodded and one told him, “Miss Adelaide has a book on them.” 

“Well,” Lester's voice dropped to a stage whisper. “I've seen them.”

“But the book says they don't exist any more.” 

“I know and the book is right.” Lester told them. “But the doors open in the past and sometimes dinosaurs come through.” He noticed some of the children looking worried and smiled reassuringly at them. “Let me tell you about one that one of my team has. His name is Rex and he's about this big.” Lester used his hands to show the gathered womblings roughly how big Rex was. “He has wings and likes to fly about, usually causing mischief.” Lester decided that mentioning his first encounter with Rex was probably not a good idea, although knowing children, the womblings would probably love to hear about it.

***

After telling the womblings about other creatures they had met – avoiding any dangerous ones for he had no wish to give them nightmares – Lester left them in the care of Miss Adelaide when she had told them firmly that story-time was over. He found a quiet corner where he could be alone, his thoughts once more turning to his children and that he needed to spend more time with them, at least, as much time as he could with the anomalies.

“It's done.”

“What's done?” Lester asked, his thoughts still on his children. 

“James? Does your head hurt?”

“What?” Lester blinked at him, what the hell was Cutter on about now?

“I said does your head hurt?” Cutter's voice was almost gentle and he reached a hand out. 

“I'm fine.” Lester pulled back as he re-ran the conversation. He looked up into Cutter's concerned face and realised he'd have to tell Cutter the truth and how he hated to mix his family and working lives together. “I was thinking about my plans for the weekend. With my family.”

“I'm not surprised after you spent time with the womblings.” Cutter gave Lester a confident smile as he still held his hand out. “Tobermory and Wellington have finished their checks. We can go home, James.”

Lester eyed Cutter's hand with distaste before the man grabbed his arm and helped Lester to his feet. “I can stand up by myself, Cutter.”

***

Lester was watching as Cutter hugged and said goodbye to the various friends he'd made, when he felt his sleeve tugged. He glanced down and smiled at the youngster... although he quirked an eyebrow when he noticed the little womble was now proudly wearing a tie around his neck. Lester crouched down and asked, his voice soft, “Yes?”

“Are you going now?” When Lester nodded, the little womble's lip quivered. “I'll miss you.”

“And I'll miss you.” Lester said and realised he actually meant it. 

The young womble looked over his shoulder at Great Uncle Bulgaria, who smiled kindly at him. “Young Leicester has a gift for you.”

Lester's eyes widened, although he cut a glare at Cutter when the man chuckled at the name the newly adult womble had chosen for himself.

The youngster's – Leicester's – voice trembled slightly as he asked, “I hope you don't mind me choosing the name Leicester?”

“Not at all,” Lester smiled at his young namesake. “In fact, I consider it an honour that you choose it.”

Leicester smiled and held his paw out to Lester, “Please accept this to remember me – us – by.”

Cutter peered closely at the golden-coloured object before stating, “It's a pyrite ammonite, Lester.”

Lester barely bit back a sigh and smiled at a nervous-looking Leicester. “It's beautiful, Leicester. Thank you, but I won't need it to remember you, although I shall treasure it.” He patted Leicester on the back when the young womble sniffled and hugged him. The youngster... Leicester – reminded him of his own children when he had to leave them to return to the ARC. ”

When Lester released him, Leicester ran over to Madame Cholet, who gave him a hug and a slice of cake. Lester watched as an older womble, this one wearing a floppy red hat and scarf, reach over for a slice but Madame Cholet noticed and had rescued the cake from his grasp. “Non, zee cake is for Leicester and zee ozzer wombles who helped.”

Great Uncle Bulgaria looked over at the commotion and shook his head. “Ho hum, well of course it's you, young womble.” 

“I just...” Orinoco trailed off and he watched those who had actually worked on Tobermory's device sharing in the cake. 

Lester stopped watching them and turned his attention back to the machine. It still looked like something his children – or Temple – would cobble together from junk... which he supposed it would since it was made of scrap and rubbish. He just hoped it would work as well as Tobermory and Wellington had claimed. 

“Ready?” Cutter's voice came from behind him. 

Lester nodded and turned back around to the wombles, his gaze pausing on young Leicester, before he spoke, “I – we can't thank you enough for all your help. I don't know how we can repay you...” Lester's voice trailed off when Great Uncle Bulgaria shook his head. 

“No need, it has been a wonderful, wonderful time, working together to solve the problem.” Great Uncle Bulgaria looked over when Tobermory cleared his throat. “Oh goodness me, yes. It is time to send you home.”

Lester joined Cutter on the carefully placed 'X' on the floor in front of the contraption. With Tobermory and Wellington calling instructions to the other wombles, various parts of the machine were soon pointed at them and Lester couldn't help his nervous swallow as the device began to hum and crackle before there was a blinding flash of light.

***

Lester groaned softly as he woke to the cold hands of the ARC's medic examining his head.

“Sir James?” The medic's voice was calm as he shone a light into Lester's eyes. “Any headache? Nausea?” 

Lester shook his head, almost wincing from the pain, before adding at the medic's quirked eyebrow, “A slight headache.”

“I'm not surprised.” The medic looked up at Jenny. “Sir James has a mild concussion.”

Lester wondered if that would explain the strange dream he'd had, not that he was going to mention it to anyone. He had no wish to spend time in a hospital bed when he could quite happily rest at home... and spend that time with his children. But, first things first. “What happened?”

Before Jenny had a chance to reply, Temple leapt in. “The anomaly... it ate you.”

Lester blinked at him. “It did what?”

Jenny answered this time. “We're not sure, James. One moment you and Nick were here...”

“The next, the anomaly bulged out and took you,” Temple finished for her. 

Lester nodded and winced as the movement caused his head to throb. Surprisingly enough, he had noticed that. He frowned at Temple, “This hasn't happened before, has it? Any idea why?” When Temple opened his mouth, Lester quickly put his hand up. “Later, write me a report.” Lester had no wish to have his head aching even more from the rapid fire and mostly non-understandable babble that would come out of Temple's mouth. 

Temple opened his mouth but before he could say a word, Jenny touched his arm and spoke. “We don't, James, so we aren't going anywhere near it.” She looked pointedly at Temple. “Are we?”

Temple sighed and nodded before he wondered off to check his instruments. “No, of course not.”

Lester smiled, he didn't doubt for a moment that Temple had wanted to investigate the anomaly further and had only been prevented by Jenny and her command over the special forces soldiers in his absence. 

“James. I think you should go home, leave this to us.” 

Jenny's voice was firm and Lester, for once, didn't argue. He couldn't wait to see his wife and children, and he didn't even complain when Cutter offered to drop him back at the ARC. His hand reached into his pocket for his phone and his fingers touched Leicester's gift. He pulled the pyrite ammonite from his pocket and looked at it, hearing Cutter's soft voice beside him, “Bloody hell, it really did happen.”

***

Lester sat at his desk, staring at the ammonite Leicester had given him and trying to think what the hell he should write in his report. The one thing he knew he wasn't going to mention was what had really happened. He'd be bloody sectioned if he mentioned talking creatures that collected rubbish and made useful things with it. He glanced up at a knock and saw Cutter hesitating in at his office door. “Yes, Cutter?”

“Um.” Cutter looked around before entering. “What the hell are you writing in your report?” When Lester quirked an eyebrow, Cutter added, “You're not putting in what really happened, are you?”

Lester looked down his nose at Cutter. “I have no wish to be detained, Cutter, do you?” When Cutter shook his head, Lester added, “I'm sure we can come up with something suitable to explain events if we work together.”

Cutter smiled. “So, we did learn something through there.”

“So it would appear,” Lester sighed softly, but even he had to admit that they had worked well together.


End file.
